Guest
a dark drive home through evergreen northwestern woes you thought had cleared came ‘round calming electric heat the whir of a rain soaked road the lull, the peace of giving up of moving on but never letting go life isn’t it what you planned a car in the shop, an ordered part a quiet room for rent, a waiting job a journal filling up with lonely thoughts like rose of sharon alone we’re tethered here by one another circling each at separate ends moving on but never letting go driving slow by your old house it’s boarded up and holds no warmth soon another coffee shop where churches meet where exes talk not much has changed without you our names are still there craved into dogwood tree above the cemetery that your brother never leaves lets hope the tides will turn one day and that your body doesn’t wash in with them cold and blue driving slow by your old house it’s boarded up and filled with ghosts the shutters sway, the gutters hang the walls are steeped in memory so much has changed without you your name is still there tattooed across his arm as you tight rope the one with headphones on tonight you’ll dream somebody loves you all hope and harm like every song you take to heart until you realize there’s a prose poem in everything a structured verse to how we move and if you read it line-by-line a rhythm starts to form meaning comes to you
